


Cover Me

by dreamlittleyo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Hugs, M/M, Romance, Schmoop, Sibling Incest, Wincest - Freeform, Wordcount: 100-1.000, Wordcount: 500-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-17
Updated: 2011-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-18 05:26:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamlittleyo/pseuds/dreamlittleyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam wants a hug. Dean doesn't get it.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Cover Me

They're on the holy-cow-we're-not-dead side of the Apocalypse, keeping their heads down between hunts, when Dean notices Sam starting to act… funny.

He supposes 'funny' is a relative term lately. Ever since he and Sam started this new thing—this whatever-it-is that's between them now, with all the touching and the kissing and the sex—he's been trying to relearn his brother. Everything is different now that they're together, now that they're fucking more nights than not, and Dean will be the first to admit that maybe he doesn't know Sam as well as he always thought he did.

But Sam's behaving oddly, even for their new, expanding relationship. Hovering and jittery and always a couple inches too far into Dean's space.

"Dude, _what_?" Dean asks after four straight days of his brother hanging off his elbow and peering over his shoulder.

"Huh?" Sam blinks, flustered and genuinely confused.

Dean drops the subject for a couple days, but when Sam doesn't back off he knows they have to talk about it. Whatever the hell 'it' is. Which sucks, because Dean hates the whole talking thing. They've been doing so well without it.

"Look," Dean says, sitting next to Sam on the edge of the bed nearest the door. "If something's wrong, you can tell me."

"Nothing's wrong," says Sam, retreating quickly. Then, "I need coffee," as he disappears outside.

The more Dean watches, the more sure he becomes: Sam _wants_ something from him. Something he's apparently too scared to say out loud. It's weird, because Dean has never known his brother to keep his grievances to himself this long. Especially now—especially since their tentative new balance of wanting and taking. Ever since that first 'okay', Sam hasn't been shy when he wants something. He just shoves Dean against the wall, the mattress, the side of the car and takes what he's after—a hopeful, questioning look in his eyes the entire time that says all Dean has to do is say no. Dean hasn't said no yet.

But it means Sam's persistent silence is out of place, so all it does is make Dean nervous.

"Enough," he finally growls a week later. They've left the smoldering corpse of a hobgoblin a couple counties north, and the motel they're checked into is dingy but clean.

"Dean?" Sam asks, wide-eyed and obviously anxious.

"Look. If there's something you want that I’m not giving you? Just ask."

Sam only looks _more_ anxious at that, like maybe he's going to bolt or lock himself in the bathroom.

"It's not really your thing, is all," Sam hedges.

"Come on, Sam, seriously?" Dean puts on his best teasing smirk, donning a nonchalance he doesn't feel. "I let you put your cock in me at _least_ four times a week." There. He's said it aloud, albeit tauntingly—it's the first time either one of them has put it to words. "You really think there's anything I won't at least consider?"

Apparently that logic sways his brother, because Sam's face settles into a determined stare, apprehension falling away in the face of decision. Dean braces himself, but Sam doesn't speak. He just strides forward and wraps Dean up in a hug—a tight, possessive, completely unprovoked hug.

"Oh, hell no!" Dean growls instinctively, fighting to get loose. They don't _do_ this—they don't hug when everything's peachy, it's against the rules!

But Sam doesn't let him go, just holds on with strong, determined arms. "See?" Sam's voice is plaintive in his ear. "How fucked up is this, Dean? You'll let me fuck you but you won't let me hug you?"

Dean stops struggling to think about that: it _is_ a little jacked. And he thinks, too, about how edgy Sam's been the last few days. How pitiful he looked with that unspoken desperation in his eyes, even when Dean didn't know what it was about. Sam doesn't just want this, Dean realizes. He _needs_ it. And Dean's got no logical reason to refuse.

"Fine," he says, and he heaves a deliberate, put-upon sigh as he raises his arms to hold Sam to his chest. "But just so you know? This makes _you_ the girl."

"I can live with that," says Sam, and Dean can feel his brother's smile against his throat.


End file.
